Air Force Sgt. Nate Stroman had it made.
He was more than halfway through a planned 20-year career hitch in the military. He successfully avoided hard work for much of his enlistment and was funny enough to earn money on the side winning open-mike nights at comedy clubs.
"I did anything I could to get out of working," he remembers. "I volunteered for Christmas, volunteered for honor guard detail -- anything as long as I didn't have to work."
But when America went to war with Iraq the first time around in 1991, Stroman -- who technically was supposed to be loading bombs onto aircraft -- disagreed with the politics of the conflict. He refused to fight in Kuwait or Iraq, and his military career ended shortly after that.
"Don't get me started on the war, man, 'cause I can go on for days," Stroman -- now better known as comedian Earthquake -- says during a phone call from his California home. That triggers several minutes of an anti-war comedy diatribe.
"It's the Bush administration and their --," he continues before reigning himself in and breaking off the attack.
It's improvised rants like these that have made Earthquake, 44, a rising star on the national comedy scene. He spews humor like a semi-automatic comedy weapon that never spends more than 90 seconds on one topic and delivers one punch line after another.
He can be observational one moment and stingingly political the next. Predicting his material for his one-night stand Saturday (Jan. 12) at House of Blues is impossible, because even he doesn't know what he'll do.
"I'm the fastest comic you'll ever see," he says in a way that sounds both proud and just a little boastful. "Some [comedians] go for quantity over quality and not the other way around. Me, I go for both -- quality and quantity."
Because of his open-mike experience, Earthquake already knew he wanted to pursue a comedy career when he was discharged from the Air Force. Besides, it beat the military's suggestion: See a psychiatrist.
"They wanted me to see a shrink and he wanted like $100 an hour for me to lay there and tell him [stuff] about myself," Earthquake says. "And then there was the guy down at the comedy club who [expletive] gave me $100 to get up and make people laugh."
Honing his craft in Atlanta, Earthquake decided to also explore the business end of the entertainment industry and, with a series of partners, eventually owned three comedy clubs. The business venture ultimately failed, Earthquake says, because he couldn't keep an eye on things when he was traveling with his comedy.
Although several big-name comedians like Eddie Murphy and Whoopi Goldberg had already seen Earthquake's act and given him their seal of approval, it was comic Steve Harvey who had the biggest influence and impact on Earthquake.
"Right from the start, [Harvey] told me I was the funniest man he'd ever seen," he says. Later, when Earthquake was opening a show for Harvey, the established comedian set him straight about improvisational humor, which Earthquake was beginning to explore.
"It was after one show, and Steve saw me writing down a joke that I had [done] that night," he recalls. "He told me, 'don't write that down, just remember it. You already said it and it was funny. It ain't gonna get any funnier because you write it.' Everything changed for me right after that."
Earthquake isn't afraid to take shots at candidates and politicians on both sides of the aisle. He stops way short of labeling himself a political comedian.
"You go down to Washington and they're talking about [banning] gangster rap," he offers. "But those are the same [people] who pass a $9-billion [spending] plan, then take $6 or $9 billion and put it aside to build some place no one needs just so they can hire their daughters to run it. Let me tell you something, those are gangsters."
If there is one thing I love, it’s winning — whether it’s board games, competition at work or whatever, it’s always fun to win. Eight years ago, my husband and I won our wedding through the Mike & Diane Morning Show on 95.1 WAYV. That was probably my biggest personal win, however, a great feat is when you’re able to win something for an admirable cause and get people rooting for you, voting for you online, and cheering you on to victory. Well, that is the situation Terry Dougherty, a third-grade teacher at Roland Rogers Elementary School in Galloway Township, finds herself in...
Article:
Unprecedented Concert Line-up for Atlantic City
Article:
Whitney
Cummings Talks
Article:
Golden Nugget Starts to Shine
Article:
Liza Minnelli, Broken Leg and All
Article:
Wyclef Jean on Whitney Houston, Haiti, Atlantic City and Fela Kuti
Article:
Revel Gets Closer to Opening
Share this Story: